The loud clashing of metal and gears is only briefly interrupted by an eruption of steam. The source of this haphazard cacophony is the mountain of a man sitting across a table by several crates of supplies. The pistons on his metal gauntlet whizz and whir past as he tries to use it to flip a coin, to varying degrees of success.

You gather the man would likely tower over you if he stood, a frightening prospect given the frustrated stare he's decided to fix onto you. Curiously enough, few things separate him from the common bandit. His headbands and tattoos- as well as the cog haphazardly fixed onto his recycled gauntlet mark him as a member of a gang of sorts. More curiously than that, it seems a spell gem has been implemented right in the center. It may all seem like recycled scrap, but it seems put together decently enough.